Believe
by Nephora
Summary: 17-year-old Nicole grows weary of the adult world. One night, Peter Pan comes by her window & shows her that no one is ever too old for Neverland, as long as they believe... (summary needs work) Please R&R anyway!
1. fallen star

A/N: All right, this is my very first Peter Pan fanfic.  Hopefully, my imagination hasn't veered off so bad that I've lost 

Peter's character.  And you've all probably read this before, but I, in no way, own Peter Pan or any of the characters that may seem familiar to you.  However, I do own Nicole, though why anyone would steal her character is beyond me.  But just in case, she is mine and I would greatly appreciate it if she remains so.  Well, enough of me blabbing.  Enjoy the story.  Oh and please review when you're done.  Thank you.

As a young child, Nicole always dreamed of going off to adventures in lands far away, where she would battle pirates, feud with Indians, and have the freedom and joy of youth surround her for all eternity.  She was enamored with the stories of Peter Pan.  Even in her restless hours during school, she would often day dream of Mermaid Lagoon and how Peter cut off Hook's hand and fed it to the crocodile. However, as she grew older, she hid how she truly adored Peter Pan and his adventures.  Though she sometimes questioned if Peter Pan was, in fact, real, she still believed in him.

            Upon entering a very prestigious, college preparatory high school, Nicole soon found that she no longer had time for childhood fantasies, that it was time she started entering the real world and stop her "senseless riff raff" as her mother called it.  Education gave Nicole a different perspective of the world.  It was no longer this safe haven as she once saw it.  She learned the horrors of rape, murder, trickery, dishonesty, and corruption.  She found it difficult to trust people, even her closest friends, with anything that might be used against her someday.  From the once sweet and charming, gullible child, emerged a doubtful and pessimistic young woman.  Though she gained knowledge far beyond her years, she regretted it somewhat, for she lost the ability to believe in fairytales, she lost the innocence a young child posses, and most sorrowful of all, she lost the hope that Peter Pan may come by her windowsill some day.

            Tired of solving incomprehensible Trigonometry problems, Nicole reclined back on her desk chair and stared at the digital clock by the lamp.  It was now 10:30 p.m., and she still had quite a handful of assignments to complete before 7 in the morning.  Rubbing her tired eyes, she got up off her chair and made her way towards the windowsill by her bed.  Lights from houses nearby shown through the dark sea of buildings like still goldfishes illuminating the night.  Above the buildings, stars glittered the sky in every direction.  Nicole sighed.  In a few months, she would be graduating from high school and attending college in the fall.  She could stay home for college and simply attend a state university or a junior college.  _But then what was the whole point of attending a college prep school for four years, _Nicole thought.  Nothing was wrong with a state university or a junior college for that matter, it was just that Nicole gained an ambitious nature during her high school years to compete with the top students of the country.  And to satisfy that ambition would mean to attend the best universities.  Sighing again, Nicole shook her head to clear all ideas of college out of her mind.  Right now, she had to finish her Trig. homework.  

            Just as she was about to turn away from the window, Nicole caught a glimpse of a vibrant, twinkling star, second to the right.  Old memories of chasing her brother around the bedroom in Indian and pirate clothes they made from their mother's scarves flickered across her head.  She remembered how they fought with swords made of toilet paper tubes and how they use to playfully wrestle each other to the ground.  Nicole missed her brother very much.  Ever since he signed up for the naval academy three years ago, she hasn't seen him since.  Brushing a tear from her cheek, she gazed back up at the bright star.  There was something very familiar about that one particular star.  It was almost as if the star was winking at her, teasing her to come out and play.  _Play_, Nicole thought.  A word she hadn't thought of in a long time.  

            As childhood memories slowly crept into her mind, Nicole found herself whispering softly "Second star to the right, and straight on till morning."  

            Brows furrowed, she wondered why she said that.  _Peter Pan isn't real_, Nicole justified.  _Just some kiddie imaginary figure like Santa Clause.  It's probably just anxiety from homework.  _Waving her hand as if to push the thoughts away, Nicole turned from the window and settled herself back down in her desk chair.


	2. child's room

A/N: Okay, you're all probably bored with the first chapter of my fic. I know, I know, it's needs a little boost to "capture the reader's interest." Don't worry, it's all exposition (stuff that sets the story). This chapter is a bit more upbeat, though there's no dialogue ~ sorry. But trust me, Chapter 3 will be so much better. And I'll add in more of UST in the story. And don't forget to review if you can. Thanks. {^_^} 

Halfway through her Economics essay, Nicole glanced over at the digital clock. 12:30 a.m. It was definitely time to get some rest. _I'll just finish this during my lunch break at school tomorrow. _With that settled, Nicole clicked off the halogen lamp and slumped her way to bed. The instant her head touched the pillow, she fell into a deep sleep. 

The slight rustle of leaves filled the quiet room. A figure, hidden by shadow, made his way around the utilitarian room, examining the no nonsense decor and the lack of personality within the room. The room had the reminiscence of being a child's room once. A small patch of yellow bunny wall-paper still encircled the light switch. Old toys were boxed in a far corner labeled "DONATIONS." And on the bottom bookshelf, buried under years of dust, was a faded hard-covered child's book. Quietly, Peter removed the book from the shelf. He blew out a big whoosh of air that not only cleared the dust off the book's cover, but also made the him sneeze.

The girl stirred in the bed and mumbled something inaudible. In a quick dash, Peter crouched down by the foot of the bedpost. When the girl stopped her fumbled movements, he slowly moved, in cat-like motion, towards the front of the bed and peered down at the sleeping girl. 

A curtain of dark brown hair, nearly black in moonlight, framed a delicate pale face. She was dressed in a black ribbed tank top that hugged her chest and waist perfectly and soft flannel pajama pants that seemed three sizes too big for her. She was a small, petite-looking girl, Peter thought. If she didn't have those slight dark circles under her eyes, she wouldn't have been a day older than 10. However, the appearance of a prominent bosom and the curves usually associated with womanhood suggested she was, at best, a young lady of 16 or 17. 

Peter found gazing at the girl very pleasant. As he made more and more frequent visits away from Neverland, Peter Pan began to age somewhat over the years. He no longer had that young boyish appearance about him, such as that of 12-year-old, though he acted like one majority of the time. Instead, he bordered that fine line between a man and a boy. 

Despite himself, Peter reached his hand out and gently stroked the girl's hair. It was soft to the touch, like the down feathers found in the under-wings of geese. And her hair had the peculiar scent of roses and oranges. 

Peter looked down at the book in his hand and smiled at the title, **The Adventures of Peter Pan.** As he was about to view to first page, a tiny cloud of dust floated over the girl's nose. Within seconds, a loud "Ah choo" erupted from her lips, and she woke to find a young lad dressed in leaves floating above her with a curious expression on his face.


	3. train engine

A/N:  Okay, here it is chapter 3!  Sorry it took me so long to get it up.  I had college apps and all that good stuff.  Thank you so much for those of you that reviewed.  You've truly made my day!  I'm so glad someone is actually reading my fic.  Keep up the reviews.  Oh, and this chapter actually has dialogue this time along with some UST (hopefully not too much).  I would rate this chapter a strong PG-13.  If it needs to be higher let me know, then again the rating might change anyway as I get more….inspired.  Well, enjoy!  

            Dark brown eyes wide, Nicole stared at the young man floating three feet above her.  His hair was a mixture of auburn with red and copper highlights, lazily ruffled and messy as if he'd just woken up.  Hazel eyes twinkled as if stars danced where pupils should have been, and his face looked like that of a little boy, almost feminine, except a broad jaw line and a pronounced Adam's apple showed that he was not a little boy at all.  His shirt (if one may call it that) was made of leaves, somehow sewn together to form one coherent article of clothing.  The shirt overlapped a pair of green pants, made of animal hide, that molded over lean muscular legs.  A leather belt, clasped around a slender waist, held a dagger at one side and a small brown pouch at the other.  

In all the years Nicole spent forgetting about him, in all the times she had told herself he never existed, Peter Pan stood (rather floated) before her very eyes.   Utterly shocked, she was speechless and merely stared at him for what seemed like hours.  

It took her two tries to finally say in a soft, hoarse voice, "Y– you're . . . Peter Pan?"

Still curious and faintly amused, Peter lowered himself over the girl until he was a few inches above her and said, in the same soft voice, "Yes."  

He was so close now that Nicole could smell the faint scent of forest, grass, and wood on him.  Giving him quick once over, she realized that he didn't look at all like the 12-year-old boy she'd imagined.  

Feeling slightly uncomfortable with her bit of scrutiny, Peter righted himself on the ground and furrowed his brows.  "Is something wrong?" he demanded with a childlike persistence.

"No, nothing.  It's just that . . . I expected you to be, well, younger," Nicole said tentatively.

Looking down at himself, Peter chuckled softly.  "Oh...hm...yeah.  I've grown some haven't I.  Well, I suppose it's from all those times visiting Wendy and Jane.  Guess the years finally caught up to me."  Raising his gaze back up, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Nicole."  She was confused and a little thrown off by the abrupt change in subject.

"That's a nice name.  But I think I'll call you Nicki instead.  Sounds less grown-up"

"Yeah...sure.  So wait, Wendy...Jane – you mean they're real?  Or actually, you're real?"  Nicole sat up straighter on the bed, curiosity overcoming whatever shock was left in her.

"I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't."  Fists on narrow hips, Peter turned his attention over to a  large cubed-shape machine seated at the back corner of a cluttered desk.  "What is that?"  He poked a finger on the black screen.

"That," Nicole pushed herself out of bed, "is a computer."

"Computer."  Peter repeated.  "Wendy and Jane never had anything like this in their room."  

  


"I doubt they would've.  Computers didn't exist until twenty years ago, well, PC's anyway."  Frowning, Nicole ventured to ask a direct question.  "Peter, how long has it been since your last visit away from Neverland?"

Placing a hand under his chin, he leaned one hip against the edge of the desk.  "I don't know, but I remember Jane being about...eleven or maybe twelve.  And that ladies wore white dresses to bed, not that."  He gestured towards the garments Nicole was wearing.

Glancing down, she raised an eyebrow.  "What's wrong with the way I dress?"

"Nothing really.  It's just something that Wendy would've called. . .what was that word– oh yeah, _vulgar_."

Offended, Nicole tried not to yell in Peter's face, and instead, calmly replied, though the words were strained,  "Girls' fashion has changed since the early 1900s, Peter.  I don't think anyone wears frilly white dresses to bed anymore."

"That's a shame.  I thought it looked rather nice on girls."

"Yeah, and rather uncomfortable," Nicole said quietly, crossing her arms under her breasts. 

 As she glanced back at Peter, Nicole could've sworn that for an instant, his gaze drifted from her face to her chest.  When she caught his eye, she noticed that his cheeks were a bit rosier than she remembered them at first, or was that just her imagination?  Peter turned away and began to busy himself with a protractor and other such materials that scattered the desk.

"Peter?"  He turned around at the sound of her voice.  "Why did you come to my window tonight?"

"I. . .I was on my way to London to visit the Darling house.  I haven't visited there in a while, and I was growing a bit lonesome in Neverland.  Oh there's Tink and the lost boys, but I– I wanted . . ."

"A mother?"  Nicole suggested.

Peter thought about it a few seconds.  "I guess you could say that.  I was hoping to bring Jane back for 'Spring cleaning,' that was what Wendy called it.  Anyway, I was on my way to London when I heard someone from this window say, 'Second star to the right and straight on till morning.'  It sounded like wish to go to Neverland."

Nicole's heart pounded in her ears.  She had always wanted to go to Neverland as a child.  It was the one thing she wished for, dreamed for, would give anything for.  And here her dream stood, only, it was many years too late.

"Peter, I said those words, but– "

His expression brightened and he held out his hand to her.  "Would you like to come with me to Neverland?"

"Yes, but– "

"Then come on, let's go!" Peter grasped her hand in his and was just about to leap out the window when Nicole reeled back and held her ground, causing Peter to unintentionally fly backwards and knock both of them onto the bedroom floor.  

Blinking unfocused eyes, Peter gazed down and found the body of a wincing Nicole pinned underneath him.  For a long moment, he simply stared down her.  She was pretty, though not exceptionally gorgeous, but more the girl-next-door pretty.  She had the most striking eyes, despite their dark color, laced with a wealth of black lashes.  And her lips–the bottom being slightly fuller than the top–gave her a permanent pout that seemed almost inviting him to. . .

With a start, Peter scampered away from Nicole until his back hit the far wall.  He'd just realized how close their bodies were and what pieces fit where.  Wendy had always taught him what was appropriate behavior for a gentlemen.  And right now, Peter couldn't help but feel that what had just happened was not at all appropriate.

A bit surprised, Nicole slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position and leaned her back against the side of the bed.  She spared a glance at the panting boy and raised an eyebrow.  

"Peter, are you. . .all right?"  He nodded quickly, eyes closed.  

Peter couldn't understand what was the matter with him.  He had done something wrong, yet he felt a strange excitement when their bodies were pressed so close to each other.  Avoiding her eyes, Peter quickly got to his feet and made his way to the window.

"Wait!"  Nicole called, stumbling ungracefully to her feet.  "Peter, wait.  Please don't go."  He looked back over his shoulder.  "Please."

He stopped before the window and let out a deep breath as if he were tired.  Turning around fully, he flashed Nicole a bright child's smile, as if he didn't have a care in the world, and with a small bow, extended his hand once again.

"What do you say, madam?  Will you accompany me to Neverland?"  Peter gazed up, smile wide and playful.

Nicole blinked, startled by the sudden change in tension, and nodded slowly.  She quickly stepped back before Peter could catch her hand again.   

"Wait.  I can't stay that long in Neverland, Peter.  I have school tomorrow and assignments due, and I'm falling behind on my college applications . . ."  She raked a hand through her hair and began to pace the room.  "Oh god, and there's that AP test coming up, and if I do go I'd have to pack, and what if my per . . . nah, it shouldn't come until another two weeks, but still it might just surprise me, and, oh crap, my mom, she's going to be so worried, I'll have to leave a note, and then there's–– "  Nicole squeaked as Peter grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

  


"Nicki . . . calm . . .down!"  He stopped shaking her and held her steady.  "Look, time is different in Neverland.  Days spent there is like minutes passing here in the 'real world.'  Don't worry so much, all right?"  He smiled dashingly.  "You'll be back way before morning arrives." 

 Chuckling, Peter shook his head in a condescending manner.

"What?"  Nicole demanded, pulling away from his loosened grip.  "What's so funny?"

Peter burst into a state of laughter and fell backwards into the air.  A bit peeved, Nicole crossed her arms and simply waited.  He kept laughing and laughing until his red head hit the ceiling and his ribs shook with pain.

Peter sat in the air, laughter still glittering his eyes, and said, "Girls definitely talk too much.  I swear it's as if they have train engines running through their mouths."  He planted both feet on the ground in front of Nicole.  "I don't mind listening to girls talk, they have rather nice voices.  But one person can only take so much jabbering."

Steam rising out of her head, Nicole grabbed a pillow and threw it with full force at Peter.  With fast hands, Peter caught the pillow and rebounded it back to her.  The pillow hit her square in the face.

"You're so immature!" Nicole yelled.  She tried to fix her mussed hair and, without success, let out an exasperated breath that blew her tangled bangs up then down. 

Peter raised an eyebrow and floated towards her.  "You know, you're a funny girl," he stated smiling.  Then, flying around her once, he landed beside her and grinned disarmingly.  "So, you still want to go to Neverland?"

Nicole looked at him sideways and couldn't stop the smile spreading across her face.  "Yes, but let me pack a few things first, okay?"

Peter nodded.  "All right.  I'll just explore while you get your things."  And with that, he flew up to examine the dusty boxes of toys on the top shelf.

"Just think, Neverland," Nicole whispered to herself, and rushed off to the other end of the room to pack her sports bag.


	4. happy thoughts

A/N:  Whew, I was very inspired this weekend.  Chapter 4 is up faster than I thought, but just watch me get writer's block the following week.  Anyway, this chapter is a bit strange and I kind of veered off into a different direction, but it still fits the story (I hope).  Thank you ever so much for those of you that reviewed!  Ok, now I sound like that red-head on Hey Arnold.  But I really appreciate the reviews, keep them coming.  And I like to thank a dear friend of mine, Jake (though he'll probably never know), who gave me the idea for this chapter.  So I'll stop jabbering now and let y'all enjoy the story.

Peter glanced into the old toy boxes.  He didn't find anything of much interest until he floated by a box labeled  "Jordan's Old Stuff."  Curious, Peter slowly lifted the lid off the box and found a pile of magazines.  The top one was a _Sports Illustrated_ and below that was a car magazine.  Peter smiled excitedly.  Years ago, Wendy had taught him how to read so that he could tell stories to the lost boys while she was away.  However, Peter could never tell stories with the same vigor and clarity that Wendy had.  He mostly read stories to himself.  Since he was out of reading material, Peter was almost ecstatic over his findings.  

He quickly grabbed several magazines from the box and floated down.  He sat Indian style on the carpet floor, and was just about to open the magazine with Shaq on the cover when he noticed a pretty pink magazine buried underneath the _National Geographic_ to his right.  Pulling the magazine up, Peter saw a beautiful brunette on the front cover dressed in a pale pink lace brassiere with matching panties.  Her hair was pushed to one side and she lay sideways on a bed of pink satin.  And she had the most suggestive smile Peter had ever seen.  

Eyes wide, Peter couldn't help but stare at the girl on the cover.  _Wendy would be furious if she saw this_, Peter thought.  _But then again, times have changed_.   His forced his eyes to look at the magazine title, _Victoria's Secret_.  Curiosity being the motive, Peter tentatively opened the magazine to the first page.  He found a blue-eyed blonde wearing a similar outfit in deep red.  He turned another page then another and found more young women dressed in the same fashion with variations here and there.  Feeling a bit embarrassed, Peter was about to return the magazine to the scattered pile on the floor when his eyes fell upon a picture of a very pretty woman with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes.  She wore a pearl white teddy with sheer white pantyhose and was laid out on a violet bedspread adorned with a wealth of  white pillows.  Her smile was pleasant and modest unlike the other ones he'd seen.  And the position of her legs, one placed gently over the other, further enhanced this image of innocence yet with the underlying suggestion of a daring spirit.  Peter found himself strangely reminded of Nicole.  Actually, now that he thought about it, the model (though taller and thinner) looked rather like an older version of Nicole.  Same hair, same eyes, same. . . 

A soft _hem hem_, brought Peter out of his trance.  He looked up to find a blank-faced Nicole with hands on her hips, tapping her foot, staring down at him.  A rapid blush crept up Peter's face.

"Having a good time?" Nicole asked, raising an eyebrow.  Peter quickly tossed the magazine aside and rose to his feet.  Pointed ears turning red, he swallowed audibly before responding.

"I–I found. . .uh. . .this in that um. . .box up there."  He gestured towards the opened box with Jordan's old stuff.  "I didn't know they made books like this."  He smiled nervously.  Nicole's face remained blank but vaguely amused.  Inside, she was practically laughing her head off .  "I um––you see, I was––there's a good. . ." Peter ran his hand through his hair desperately, searching for the best explanation.  He'd never been in a situation where he felt this embarrassed before.  Nicole's blank face slipped several times into a smile. However, Peter was too nervous and too busy scrambling his brain for words to take notice. 

Giving up, he blurted out in one breath  "Is-it-hot-in-here-or-is-it-just-me?" 

Nicole burst out into laughter, dropping the suave act, and fell to the floor.  She hadn't laughed so hard since she was a little girl.  She kicked at the ceiling and rolled on the floor, and laughed until tears flowed from her eyes and her sides ached.   And when Peter scowled and said, "That wasn't funny," Nicole laughed even more.  After what seemed like hours, Nicole finally calmed herself, and only giggled now and then when Peter crossed his arms and pouted. 

"Oh, I'm sorry Peter."  Nicole sat up and wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands.  Peter ignored her and averted his attention to the desk next to him.  "C'mon, don't sulk."  Nicole looked up at Peter and smiled  a bright and cheerful smile, giving her the appearance of a little child.  Peter felt his own smile spread across his face.  Despite his anger, he couldn't resist such a pretty smile.  It was then that he noticed Nicole had changed her clothes.  She still wore that ghastly tank top, but she replaced the huge pajama pants with what looked like. . .denim trousers?

"Since when did girls wear trousers?" Peter asked, offering his hand to help Nicole up.

"Since they started burning their bras in public in the 1960s."  She took the offered hand and rose to her feet, which were now clad in black sneakers with a red swoosh on the side.  Peter made an almost disgusted face.  If he hadn't known better, he would have mistaken Nicole for a boy.

"What?" Nicole asked.

Peter shook his head.  "I don't know what's happened over the years, but for girls to wear boy's clothing, it's. . .disturbing."

"Disturbing?"  Nicole half-laughed.

Peter shrugged.  "It's like they don't want to be recognized as a lady.  That book over there certainly suggests that."  He pointed to the _Victoria's Secret_ magazine.  

"Peter, that's a shopping catalog for women to buy um. . .unmentionables.  Why it's in my brother's old stash of mags I can only guess– actually, I don't even want to know.  But people have become less uptight over the years.  We're more comfortable with our skins now."  She picked the scattered magazines and seated them into a neat pile on her desk.  "Besides, the _Victoria's Secret_ catalog is nothing compared to what's shown on the media."  She looked at Peter.  "I'm guessing you've never seen a girl in her underwear."

"Of course I have," Peter protested.  "Just not in anything that colorful."

Nicole smiled teasingly.  "Really.  Who?"

Peter shifted his position.  "Wendy," he mumbled.

Both of Nicole's eyebrows shot up.  "And how did you end up in such a situation?"

Peter found the carpet to be of immense interest.  

"Peter?"  

He slowly met Nicole's curious eyes.  And eventually sighed.  "Wendy got caught in a rainstorm on her way back to the hideout from picking berries one afternoon.  I was taking a nap when I heard her footsteps come down the stairs.  I pretended to be still asleep so that she wouldn't catch me in a long conversation about how unpredictable the weather was in Neverland.  I like Wendy, but sometimes she can talk on for hours without end."  His gaze drifted to the bedpost, as if he was seeing before him the very memory he was recalling.  "She came by my bed to see if I was still sleeping– naturally, I fooled her into thinking that I was.  She tiptoed off to her bed, which was across from mine, and started to unbutton her rain-soaked night dress.  I knew I should have closed my eyes or turned away– Wendy never liked people to watch her change, she didn't even let me change when she was around, she said it wasn't proper.  But as I lay there, I couldn't stop watching her.  She peeled off the wet gown and wrapped her arms around herself.  She was shivering and dripping wet with her curly hair plastered to her face, and wore only a pair of white-laced underwear.  Wendy probably wasn't older than 13 at the time, and she was the prettiest lady I had ever seen.  I felt a strange feeling in my stomach, like there were fishes jumping all around inside.  I wanted her to stay forever in Neverland."  Peter smiled sadly.  "But she said she had to go back, she couldn't stay."

All teasing escaped Nicole.  She could see the brief glimpse of lost pass through Peter's eyes before he looked up and flashed his bright smile once again.  Nicole blinked.  _How could he change emotions so fast?_

"So what do you say, Nicki?  Ready to go to Neverland?" Peter asked in his usual playful voice.

Nicole nodded and grabbed her sports bag.  "Yes, I'm ready." 

Peter reached into his brown pouch and blew a fistful of golden fairy dusk at Nicole.  She giggled as the glittering particles tickled her nose and eyelashes.  

"Now think of happy, wonderful thoughts," said Peter as he floated a few feet before her.

Nicole closed her eyes and pictured Christmas morning when she was little.  Her father had the camcorder ready and her mother sat smiling on the sofa while she and her brother excitedly opened presents.  She remembered the pine scent from the Christmas tree and the empty milk glass and cookie plate they had left out for Santa.  And she remembered how happy she was when she unwrapped her first Peter Pan book.

Nicole opened  her eyes and found herself floating three feet off the ground.  "Oh my god," Nicole gasped, "I–I'm really flying!"  Nicole flew once around the room then stopped, then flew around the room again, laughing.  She couldn't believe this was happening.  She was actually flying!

Peter appeared in front of her, smiling.  "Take my hand."  Nicole did.  "Second star to the right..."

"And straight on till morning," beamed Nicole.

"On to Neverland!" shouted Peter.  And off they went into the starry night.


End file.
